


Superior Pair

by CaveDwellers



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Camp Pining Hearts, Gen, M/M, Peridot's fanfiction, commissions, gratuitous Paulette Bashing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 14:34:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6989176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaveDwellers/pseuds/CaveDwellers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was raining at Camp Pining Hearts, and Percy was brooding. The rain was pretty cool, though; cool, as in pleasant, not necessarily its temperature, which was also, coincidentally, similar. Percy/Pierre. A fanfic by Peridot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Superior Pair

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mintly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mintly/gifts).



> This piece was immensely entertaining to write, and I owe it all to [Mintly](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Mintly/pseuds/Mintly) for commissioning me! I had a lot of fun getting into the mindset of how Peridot would write (and then deciding she would abuse the semicolon from here to end of the gem empire).
> 
> I also owe gratitude to [Rhinocio](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhinocio) for the mostly impromptu beta, but let's face it we both knew that was gonna happen. 
> 
> If you would also like to commission me, please do so by visiting [this](http://theladyforester.tumblr.com/post/144863034650/commission-me) tumblr post! :D

Superior Pair

A Camp Pining Hearts fanfic

By Peridot

* * *

It was raining at Camp Pining Hearts (1). The rain was, in fact, not at all scalding; it was actually quite chilly to the semi-permeable membranes of fragile humans who, for some reason, prefer to cover themselves with the sort of materials that soak in moisture and make them feel even colder.

The rain was pretty cool, though; cool, as in pleasant, not necessarily its temperature, which was also, coincidentally, similar.

It was dark, and Percy was standing in the rain outside of the mess hall, blonde and brooding; his yellow bandana hung limp and dripping from his breast pocket. Incidentally, Paulette had been sentenced to wash everyone’s dishes for the rest of the summer because nobody liked her and she was a useless clod stuck to the bottom of the camp’s hierarchy; in hindsight, Percy had no proper justification as to why he had ever engaged in the human custom known as ‘kissing’ with her. He had not been in his right mind, clearly; clods are distracting like that.

Percy was brooding because his best friend, Peter, had had to leave Camp four weeks early due to the fact that his father, Pascal, had miraculously awoken from the tragic comatose state(2) he had been trapped in for the last ten years. Why humans continue to support the lives of beings who are providing absolutely no societal service and are actually wasting precious organic resources by continuing to live and _do nothing_ , Percy would never understand; but he was still saddened by the loss of Peter’s companionship. Their intangible social bond had been buoying when the Color Wars of Camp Pining Hearts had been too stressful for his fragile human constitution, and when Paulette was being annoying.

“Are you brooding in the rain, too?” came a low, smooth voice.

Percy looked up, and shivered; but that was only because the rain had a cold temperature, not because of anything else.

Before Percy stood Pierre. He was taller than Percy, and his typically sweeping dark hair was damp and stuck to his forehead. His arms were crossed, and the yellow bandana tied around his well defined bicep was drooping like a dead earth daffodil. Percy was glad that he and Pierre were on the same team, especially after the incredible display that was Pierre and the three legged races.

“Yeah, I suppose I am,” Percy replied. “You would too, if your best friend had left you!”

“Percy,” said Pierre with his strong accent. Pierre was from Quebec(3), and English was not his primary language, though he did use it—disdainfully—for the sake of the majority of anglophones at camp. Pierre’s eyes were dark, and he was frowning in disapproval of Percy’s nonsensical sentimentality. “Peter never would have made it through the kayaking competition next week, and you know it. He was weak, and he was holding you back.”

“Don’t you think I know that!” cried Percy, throwing out his arm. “This is the _color wars_ , Pierre; I know what we have to do to defeat the Blue Team, and putting foot cream in their shampoo bottles isn’t going to be enough. It was enough of a blow to morale in the beginning, but it is not enough now. Now we must face them head on!”

“We must, Percy,” Pierre agreed with a sodden nod. He raised his head, and the lights from the mess hall glinted off of the raindrops falling down around the two of them in a way that seemed almost intentional in its incidental showmanship. “You must have realized by now.”

Though Pierre had not been specific about what he was referring to, Percy understood instantly. “I do, Pierre,” he said. “Objectively, with my networking capabilities, and your raw strength and magnetism, we are a superior pair. With our combined capabilities, we could conquer this camp, and make everyone else our subordinates.”

Pierre nodded. “It’s true, we could.”

“But _should_ we?”

Pierre lifted his chin, with its rugged human adolescent facial hair known as ‘stubble’. Rain water dripped off of his jaw. “Now is not the time for second thoughts, Percy. Do not be weak and singular, when we could have such a superior battle formation, together.”

Percy thought about this for a moment. The logic was sound. Whenever he and Pierre worked together, the results were miraculous; and when they worked separately, the results were less so; there was no denying this.

Pierre continued, “Is it not our duty to realize our full potential here at Camp Pining Hearts? Isn’t that why they sent us here?”

It was true. Percy could not deny that it seemed like such a thin ruse to bring so many adolescent humans to such a remote location without covertly instilling within them valuable military techniques.

“No,” Percy said. “Pierre, you’re right. I cannot fight this excellent logic. We _are_ a superior pair, and we _should_ use that to our advantage!”

Pierre said nothing. He merely offered his hand to shake(4). Percy took it, no longer hesitating, and their nonverbal human contract was binding and lucrative.

“Do you still feel like brooding?” asked Percy.

It was a rare day for Pierre to smile, but he did so now. “No,” he said. “I have nothing to brood about anymore.”

“Cool,” Percy said with a smile of his own. They would conquer the entirety of this camp yet.

* * *

 

FOOTNOTES

(1) Camp Pining Hearts is located in the arbitrary geographical designation humans refer to as ‘Canada’. It is also located next to a ‘great lake’. Of course, this lake is not near as impressive as the sprawling ocean planets in the Andromeda galaxy, but we won’t get into that because that is not relevant to Camp Pining Hearts.

(2) According to my Steven-informant, a comatose state is one in which a human requires constant care and sustenance, but does not offer up any consciousness in return. Seems like a monumental waste of resources.

(3) Quebec is a city in the country of Canada. Citizens there primarily speak the human language known as French. Why do humans not have a universal language? How else are they supposed to progress as a species? This does not make sense to me.

(4) Shaking hands, according to my Steven-informant, is a nonverbal way for humans to agree with one another. It is also, according to my informant, a way for humans to seal one another into highly subjective and unreliable social contracts.


End file.
